


tinderbox

by angelicaed (skyguyandsnips)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abuse, F/M, Post-Reynolds Pamphlet, Screenplay/Script Format, well vaguely but we see James Reynolds acting a fool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 01:37:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7665283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyguyandsnips/pseuds/angelicaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>tin·der·box, \ˈtin-dər-ˌbäks\, noun: A potentially explosive place or situation.</p><p>Or, the Reynolds Pamphlet and Burn sections of the Hamilton screenplay that lives in my head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tinderbox

**Author's Note:**

> a million thanks to my betas, Dia (@apostolos on here) and Nenya (@truemonarchofthesewalls on tumblr)! their input was invaluable and they're both super super awesome. <3

COLD OPEN:

The accompaniment from "THE REYNOLDS PAMPHLET" plays as:

INSERT — NEWSPAPER HEADLINE

A newspaper spins onto the screen. It reads, "FORMER TREASURY SECRETARY REFUTES SPECULATION RUMORS WITH ADULTERY CONFESSION."

MONTAGE

  1. Somewhere in Washington D.C., a room full of Hamilton's political rivals raise their glasses in a toast. THOMAS JEFFERSON (early 60s, flashy, the type of guy you love to hate, very Southern) looks like a supervillain who's just won the lottery.

  2. In the Church home, ANGELICA CHURCH (early 40s; dazzling; if not for the constraints placed on her gender, her name would fill the pages of future American history books) stares at a PORTRAIT of the Schuyler Sisters, 20 years younger.

  3. Somewhere in New York City, MARIA REYNOLDS (20s, perceptive, alluring, trying to live her life) curls around her DAUGHTER. Her husband, JAMES REYNOLDS (early 30s, self-centered, abusive) destroys the apartment around her in anger. We can't hear it, but he's bellowing.

  4. On Wall Street, rain slams against the windows of a well furnished, dark study. ALEXANDER HAMILTON'S (early 40s, never satisfied, manically brilliant, fingers stained black with ink) face is shadowed. Lightning strikes outside the windows, and it puts the regret written across his face into sharp focus.




1 EXT. HARLEM, NY - NIGHT

We see a wide shot of the Hamiltons' street: cozy-looking brownstones, inviting light shining through their windows. It's raining here too, but more gently.

2 INT. HAMILTON HOUSE/VARIOUS - NIGHT

SERVANTS, some possibly slaves, clear off the large dining table and wipe sticky handprints from the windows.

3 INT. HAMILTON HOUSE/PARLOR - NIGHT

An abandoned basket of embroidery sits beside an overstuffed chair.

4 INT. HAMILTON HOUSE/NURSERY - NIGHT

JOHN CHURCH HAMILTON (5 years old) fusses.

5 INT. HAMILTON HOUSE/SECOND LEVEL HALLWAY - NIGHT

Angelica places a tray of food outside of the door to the master bedroom. Face shadowed in concern, she knocks twice.

There is no invitation to enter.

ANGELICA  
(to herself)  
Alexander, what have you done…

She turns, starts for the stairs. The rose gold of her gown reflects the soft candlelight of the candelabras. But her eyes catch on the door right before the staircase. Candlelight and indistinct conversation leak from under it.

Angelica steps closer, places her ear against the wood to better hear the conversation on the other side of the door.

CUT TO:

6 INT. HAMILTON HOUSE/PHILIP'S ROOM — NIGHT

PHILIP HAMILTON (mid teens, his face and energy his father's but his features and manner softened by his mother) sits at a desk messy with schoolbooks and papers. One of these books is open, and there is a quill in his right hand and a sheaf of paper in front of him.

He is not studying.

Sitting on the bed behind him, eyes on her brother's back, is ANGELICA "ANGIE" HAMILTON (early teens, much like her aunt in appearance and temperament aside from the qualities only a little sister can have.)

ANGIE  
Well. Have you read it?

PHILIP  
Who the hell hasn't?

Philip closes his eyes, opens them to frown deeply at the wall.

PHILIP (CONT'D)  
Angie, you know I have stuff to work on. Go to bed.

Though he senses Angie's glare, Philip doesn't turn around.

ANGIE  
I will not! You've spent every hour between meals studying. And Jamie, earlier, he asked me if we needed to pray for Mother, because all anyone's told him all week is that she "isn't feeling well." And—and the other day I saw that Theodosia Burr at the bookshop, and the look on her face, she's as wicked as her father! And—

Angie stops talking, brings her hands up to cover her face. Philip is on his feet in an instant at the sound of her first few sobs, crossing over to the bed to sit beside her.

PHILIP  
Angie, hey. Calm down, c'mon—

He places a hand on her back.

ANGIE  
I just—I'm going to go mad if I keep everything inside. I know it. And I know you think if you don't say anything, then it isn't real…

Philip winces.

ANGIE (cont'd)  
…but it is, and we have to talk.

Philip sighs deeply, reaches in his pocket for a handkerchief and hands it to Angie, but he won't meet her eyes.

PHILIP  
(low, angry)  
I just—I can't believe he fucking brought her here, into the house. Reynolds.

ANGIE  
Yeah. Me either.

CUT TO:

7 INT. SECOND LEVEL HALLWAY - NIGHT

Angelica's eyes are alight with fury, her fists clenched. None of it is toward the children  on the other side of the door. For a long moment, she is very still. Then she starts down the stairs, her pace urgent.

8 INT. ANGELICA'S CARRIAGE - NIGHT - TRAVELING

Angelica now wears a cloak over her dress. Rain pelts the windows.

ANGELICA  
(to DRIVER)  
Mr. Hamilton's office, please.

9 EXT. HARLEM, NY - NIGHT

Angelica's carriage pulls away from the Hamilton home.

SFX: Hooves on cobblestone.

We hear the first notes of "CONGRATULATIONS."

10 INT. HAMILTON HOUSE/MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

ELIZABETH "ELIZA" HAMILTON (early 40s, proud, very religious, sure of what she wants in life) sits on the floor. She's barefaced, her hair un-styled. A heavy wooden box is open before her, and scattered around her are a staggering amount of handwritten LETTERS. We focus on the thin WEDDING RING on her left hand.

"BURN"

ELIZA  
I SAVED EVERY LETTER YOU WROTE ME.  
FROM THE MOMENT I READ THEM,  
I KNEW YOU WERE MINE.  
YOU SAID YOU WERE MINE,  
I THOUGHT YOU WERE MINE.

11 INT. SCHUYLER MANSION/PARLOR - DAY - (FLASHBACK)

ELIZA  
(V.O.)  
DO YOU KNOW WHAT ANGELICA SAID  
WHEN WE SAW YOUR FIRST LETTER ARRIVE?

Eliza is in the process of opening a letter, a smile on her face. She begins reading the letter to her sisters, laughing and flailing. Angelica listens, both happy and concerned for her sister.

ELIZA (CONT'D)  
(V.O.)  
SHE SAID,  
"BE CAREFUL WITH THAT ONE LOVE,  
HE WILL DO WHAT IT TAKES TO SURVIVE."

Angelica places a hand on Eliza's shoulder, speaks. Eliza nods, still reading, and does not appear to truly hear her sister.

ELIZA (CONT'D)  
(V.O.)  
YOU AND YOUR WORDS FLOODED MY SENSES.  
YOUR SENTENCES LEFT ME DEFENSELESS.

Eliza sends and receives subsequent correspondence, enchanted and engrossed by the words on the pages.

ELIZA (CONT'D)  
(V.O.)  
YOU BUILT ME PALACES OUT OF PARAGRAPHS,  
YOU BUILD CATHEDRALS.

ELIZA'S P.O.V. - Eliza looks down at her latest mail, Alexander's PROPOSAL LETTER.

FADE TO:

12 INT. HAMILTON HOUSE/MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

ELIZA'S P.O.V. - All these years later, Eliza looks down at the same letter. The paper has yellowed, and the many paragraphs of Alexander's writing are now faded.

ELIZA  
I'M RE-READING THE LETTERS YOU WROTE ME.  
I'M SEARCHING AND SCANNING FOR ANSWERS  
IN EVERY LINE,  
FOR SOME KIND SIGN.

Eliza looks up at the PAINTING hanging above the mantelpiece. It's her and Alexander on their wedding day, looking toward the artist with smiles that are more giddy than poised.

ELIZA (CONT'D)  
(V.O.)  
AND WHEN YOU WERE MINE,  
THE WORLD SEEMED TO BURN.

ELIZA'S P.O.V. - Eliza's memories bring the PAINTING to life. The newlyweds try to sit still and burst into laughter instead, whisper into each other's ears, and can't stop touching each other.

Eliza forces her gaze away from the PAINTING.

ELIZA (CONT'D)  
BURN.

Eliza's eyes alight on a copy of THE REYNOLDS PAMPHLET, previously hidden among the many letters surrounding her.

ELIZA (CONT'D)  
YOU PUBLISHED THE LETTERS SHE WROTE YOU.  
YOU TOLD THE WHOLE WORLD HOW YOU BROUGHT  
THIS GIRL INTO OUR BED.  
IN CLEARING YOUR NAME, YOU HAVE RUINED OUR LIVES.

Eliza's face hardens, and she gets to her feet, THE REYNOLDS PAMPHLET in hand.

ELIZA (CONT'D)  
DO YOU KNOW WHAT ANGELICA SAID  
WHEN SHE READ WHAT YOU'D DONE?  
SHE SAID,  
"YOU HAVE MARRIED AN ICARUS,  
HE HAS FLOWN TOO CLOSE TO THE SUN."

On the mantlepiece, next to a PITCHER OF WATER, sits a TINDER PISTOL. She fires it, then uses a sulphur match to light the CANDLE in the pistol's holder.

ELIZA (CONT'D)  
YOU AND YOUR WORDS,  
OBSESSED WITH YOUR LEGACY.

After touching it to the CANDLE'S flame and letting its pages catch, Eliza throws THE REYNOLDS PAMPHLET onto the cold hearth. It begins to char and curl.

ELIZA (CONT'D)  
YOUR SENTENCES BORDER ON SENSELESS.  
AND YOU ARE PARANOID IN EVERY PARAGRAPH,  
HOW THEY PERCEIVE YOU.

Eliza turns, stares at the LETTERS strewn on the floor.

ELIZA (CONT'D)  
YOU, YOU, YOU.

She was helplessly in love when she'd read Alexander's letters, helpless when he smeared his own name—and hers, and the children's—in the press. Now, there is something wild in her eyes. Something almost cruel.

Alexander's PROPOSAL LETTER in hand, Eliza faces the fire once again.

ELIZA (CONT'D)  
I'M ERASING MYSELF FROM THE NARRATIVE.

Eliza lets the PROPOSAL LETTER join the smoldering REYNOLDS PAMPHLET.

ELIZA (CONT'D)  
LET FUTURE HISTORIANS WONDER HOW ELIZA  
REACTED WHEN YOU BROKE HER HEART.  
YOU HAVE TORN IT ALL APART.  
I AM WATCHING IT  
BURN.  
WATCHING IT BURN.

Eliza is a woman turned hurricane. Her nightgown swirls around her as she reaches for another letter, and then another, throwing them onto the hearth.

ELIZA (CONT'D)  
THE WORLD HAS NO RIGHT TO MY HEART,  
THE WORLD HAS NO PLACE IN OUR BED.  
THEY DON'T GET TO KNOW WHAT I SAID.  
I'M BURNING THE MEMORIES,  
BURNING THE LETTERS THAT MIGHT HAVE REDEEMED YOU.

The fire is glad for them, eager to be fed. It jumps, dances, reduces everything Eliza gives it to ashes.

ELIZA (CONT'D)  
YOU FORFEIT ALL RIGHTS TO MY HEART.  
YOU FORFEIT THE PLACE IN OUR BED.

FIREPLACE P.O.V. -  Eliza towers above us. The flames flickering in front of her visage are reflected in her eyes. Tears stream down her face.

ELIZA (CONT'D)  
YOU SLEEP IN YOUR OFFICE INSTEAD.  
WITH ONLY THE MEMORIES  
OF WHEN YOU WERE MINE.

Eliza picks up the PITCHER on the mantlepiece.

ELIZA (CONT'D)  
(half spoken)  
I HOPE THAT YOU BURN.

FIREPLACE P.O.V. - Eliza throws the water onto the fire, extinguishing it.

CUT TO:

BLACK

**Author's Note:**

> [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y0_qMoX0rUw) shows how a tinder pistol (used in upper- and middle-class households before the invention of the friction match in the early 1800s) was used.
> 
> also, for anyone up in arms about the "some possibly slaves" line, it's something I struggled with. the discussion around slavery in the musical and in fic is painful for me as a black person—especially the idea of black and brown characters owning slaves—but so is completely erasing the issue. at the very least, Hamilton rented slaves at various points. [here's a good article](http://historynewsnetwork.org/blog/153639) about how Hamilton the Abolitionist is ahistorical.
> 
> thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please leave a comment. :)


End file.
